Page 168 of Stolen Omega

“What can I help you find?” Dale asks.

“Um, something kind of long, I guess,” I tell him, wondering how much it matters if I try to cover up any signs of arousal now. I’m with men who are meant to be mated to me, and I’m not opposed to getting to know them better. I would just feel a little more comfortable if it wasn’t super obvious when my slick is coming in. My body’s been so out of control lately.

Dale pulls out a long, purple dress that looks super clingy.

“Um, no.” I shake my head.

“Yeah, it’s a bit much, right? I don’t think Zane should ever be allowed to go shopping on his own again.”

“It’s definitely not the kind of thing I’d wear,” I agree, knowing there must be something more me.

“How about …” Dale starts, trailing off when he finds a black pencil skirt. “Okay, this and …”

He looks around and pulls out a silver cami. “This.”

“Good pick,” I enthuse as I take them out of his hands.

They’re not as perfectly comfortable as sweats, but I’ve done way too much sweating and … other things in these already. I’m dying to wash up and put on a change of clothes. These will do nicely.

We walk back to Dale’s room, and he lays himself down on the bed.

“I’ll wait out here,” he tells me as I step into the bathroom.

“Good idea,” I reply, as I close the door on the room.

The bathroom’s as luxurious as mine was on the other side of the building. I put the clothes on an empty towel rail while I strip off and clean myself up.

My slick doesn’t stop dripping from my pussy. It hasn’t stopped all morning. It’s slowed down, but it hasn’t stopped. I’m dangerously close to my first heat.

I’m glad I’m in the right place for it.

Guilt over the concert dates that’ll have to be canceled comes and goes.

I’ve been working way too much ever since I signed that first contract.

Barely getting breaks between tours and recording studio visits and promo stops.

Years flew by, passing me so fast I hardly noticed them.

Maybe if I’d stopped to think a little more, I would have realized what I was missing.

I put on the new clothes without underwear, and when I open the door, I find Dale waiting for me with a pair of black sliders that he hands over to me.

“We’re roughly the same size,” he tells me with a smile when they fit. “I figured you wouldn’t want heels, and your sneakers would look crazy with that outfit.”

They did look crazy with the outfit, and I was too bothered by that to keep them on. I guess all of that looking perfect for promo days has made me care about having shoes that match my outfit.

“You figured right. I wear them on stage because they’re part of my whole look. I can’t stand wearing heels any other time.”

“They do look like a pain in the ass,” he says. “And that’s all Zane got you. I think he shopped for you as if you wear your stage clothes every day.”

“And he shopped for you as if you not-so-secretly wish it was the eighties?”

“So, that’s why everything’s neon!” He grins at me. “I totally get it now.”

“If I’m remembering right, you did kind of love watching eighties movies.”

“I was a kid, and they were so dumb and fun,” he says, his grin dying down to a smile. “I’m glad you’re getting your memories back.”

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